Chapter Text
Brainstorm didn't think it would happen on a random cycle in the middle of the orn. He could only stare as the prettiest mech he had ever laid optics upon entered the café.
Gleaming red and white plating with pristine blue accents, a broad glass panel sitting over his chest, piercing optics that observed their surrounding with unmatched diligence, a posture that put every model to shame. A scope of some sort rested on the mechs shoulder, partly hiding his helm. As he turned towards the counter however, a handsome angular faceplate was revealed, framed by a pitchblack helm, topped with the most perfect symmetrical crest.
Not for the first time in his functioning was he glad for the blastmask covering most of his face, because he couldn't seem to close his intake, gaping at the new customer. Time shouldn't be able to slow down the way it did as the mech came closer. One optic was hidden behind a monocle of some sort, which in his opinion only added to the charm. Even the way his features expressed quiet confidence and certainty, didn't so much as break opticcontact as he spoke, maintaining an air of calm was most fascinating to Brainstorm.
".. excuse me?"
"Huh?"
Brainstorm jerked upright, having spaced out all the while staring at the mech. Suddenly he got painfully aware of the bots around him, where he was, what his job was. Standing behind the counter and taking orders. Normally he would be further back fixing the drinks, mixing ingredients until the desired result was accomplished. When he first started here a quartex ago, Brainstorm had gained the hang of it in notime. It was not much different from mixing chemicals in his makeshift lab in his livingroom, simply replace the potential dangerous acids with not so dangerous additives and different energon types and voila, Brainstorm the Barista was forged. He didn't care much for what was going on in the mainspace of the café, bustling with life. The gossip of his coworkers was the same mundane as everywhere else, mildly amusing at the best.
What he wasn't used to, but knew was a big part of the occupation, was talking to customers. So, many. Each shift he had to fill in for somebot at the front was a shift he counted the kliks until it was over. Never would he have imagined that it due this that he met a mech this-
"My order."
The mech standing right in front of him repeated, helm tilted ever so slightly in query.
Brainstorm flushed, wings stiff on his back to not let his embarrassment show. Busying himself with tapping on the screen to take up a new order, he smiled, more to bolster his resolve and not hide than keeping a customer friendly face. "Sorry, I was with my thoughts elsewhere. A lot on my mind these cycles." He made up an excuse on the fly, followed up by, "Could you repeat that, please?"
Seeing the curt nod from the corner of his optics, Brainstorm was hyperfocused on every glyph to not mess up more than he already did. Which, perhaps, was counterproductive because his voice was equally mesmerising. Monotone in the best of ways, as if the glyph 'neutral' and 'without inflection' came to life, as if reading an experiment report where the outcome was not determined yet. How could one mech retain so much scientific appeal was beyond him, though he would think over all of the evidence in detail later.
"Okay, got it. It'll be ready in a bit." Brainstorm looked back up at the other with what he hoped a convincing aura of 'I am totally normal about you'.
Inclining his helm again, the mech left to take a seat by the window. Crossing one strut over the other, he took out a datapad, entirely focused. Was he a creep for surreptitiously keeping an optic on him while he took the next order? Maybe. Did that stop him? No.
Filling in meant that he had to juggle both making orders and the front at the same time. Luckily this morning there weren't many bots about, especially on the third cycle of the orn. 'The third is a snoozer' Nautica reassured this morning. His amica was the reason he got this job in the first place. Wanting to make a little bit of shanix while he studied set him up to afford better equipment, both in and outside of University. It meant that he had less freetime overall however that didn't bother Brainstorm all that much. He was a genius after all, studying was merely a title earned to gain more opportunities later on. Speaking of Nautica, his friend pushed the swing door to the kitchen open while walking backwards, carrying a tray of clean plates. Sensing his chance, he nudged her arm.
"Nautica, could you do me a favor, pretty please? I need you to stay at the register while I make this order, it is of utmost importance."
Stacking the old plates on top of the new ones. "Sure." She gave him a sidelong look, a quirk to her lipplates. "What's gotten under your wings this morning?"
Already turning to grab a pitcher of energon, he refilled the press. Glancing at the display for the exact order, he double checked how bland the energon would going to be, with just a few more additives. Oh well.
"Nothing." After a beat he added, "Nothing of concern, for now. I need more data, first."
"Right." Nautica chuckled, stepping up beside him to take on the second order. Brainstorm felt her curiosity, but she didn't ask further. Quick, sure digits poured crystals into the little cup of the press, slotting it in place and setting an empty cube beneath, letting the press do its work. While he waited, he again spied over the rim of the machine. Sunshine had broken through the clouds, bathing the mech in warm light. It nearly made Brainstorm's spark skip a rotation.
A quiet snicker behind him had him whip around towards his amica, who immediately raised her servos.
"He's cute, you got good taste."
"Oh shut it." he grumbled. The press blinked happily to signal it was done. Focusing, he added the final touch, zinc sprinkles- not shavings- that would melt in the energon. Brainstorm didn't know anyone who genuinely liked zinc. It tasted like gunpowder, at least that what he assumed, based on the smell when a reaction with zinc didn't go as planned.
Placing the cube on a little tray and adding a spoon, he cycled a vent, trying to pretend this was a normal bot, on a normal cycle, ordering the most ordinary drink. Determinedly, he squared his shoulders and wings, walking up to the table of the mech.
"Here is yo-"
With the last step he took, he somehow, tripped. Over his own ped, or the clean floor, or the air. Whatever the cause, the outcome was the same. He caught himself in time, arms reeling, although the cube and plate had an inevitable trajectory. Hot energon was spilled over the mechs chest and lap, the immaculate class now stained and plating soaked. Fortunately, the mech had enough reflexes to subspace his datapad. However he couldn't save himself from his fate. The table, too, wasn't spared but those were minor stains.
Brainstorm stared for a few nano-kliks, wanting nothing more than struck by lightning then and there. He watched as the mech, arms awkwardly raised to both sides, slowly lifted his helm to look at him, still wearing a very composed expression, albeit frowning now.
"I am- so sorry, oh Primus." Cursing silently, his gaze flitted from the pretty mech, to the plate, to the cube on the floor and back. Reaching for both plate and cube, Brainstorm held out a servo. "Just- stay, as you are. I'll be right back!" Not waiting for an answer, he turned on the spot, hurrying to place the items down on the counter and exchanging them for a bunch of cloths from beneath the sink. He returned in record time, miraculously not wacking anyone with his wings.
"Here." He practically shoved a dry cloth onto the mech, busying himself with wiping the counter and the empty seat. "Again, I'm terribly sorry, I don't know how that happened. Would you like another cube? Maybe to go? I could refund you, too, if you want to leave." Brainstorm was rambling, he knew he was, and the mere idea of having a prime spot in this mech's memories as 'mech who tripped on air' didn't help at all.
"It is alright. Accidents happen. A cube to go is agreeable. No, there is no need for a refund." Surprisingly calm, the mech rattled off his answers, while meticulously wiping down his front.
Brainstorm definitely didn't ogle, he had a semblance of shame after all. "There is a guest washrack in the back, to clean up properly while I redo your order." He offered meekly, accepting a soiled cloth back.
A few breems later, the mech left with a new sealed cube in his subspace, worse for wear.
Nautica gave Brainstorm a half amused, half pitying look as the flier crouched behind the counter, doubting his life choices.
"Relax, it was an accident. Could have happened to me, too."
"But I am not you." Came the muffled reply.
"Gee, thanks."
"I didn't mean-"
"I know, I'm was joking. Come on up, we got a shift to run until it's over. Afterwards you can tell me more about how you will probably never see the cute mech again over a sweet treat, how's that sound?"---
The following orn, the new semester officially started. Brainstorm couldn't wait to get back into a actual lab, with actual equipment. Sitting through mandatory lessons seemed less daunting when he could experiment and test to his sparks content in the time before, in between, or afterwards. Sometimes he would meet up and refuel with friends in the shorter breaks, however the first place to look was the Laboratory building. The library was a close second.
Subspace stacked with datapads about various researched topics, Brainstorm was on his way to the lab. He and the other students of the Science study were granted access to experiment freely, within certain boundaries, to then write a successful thesis for example. Reaching the blastproof doors, he typed in the code, fully prepared to be welcomed by the quiet solitude of the first orn of the semester. No one ever came here this early, the professors dishing out assignments that left no room for fun and games. He scoffed playfully to himself. He was made to invent great things, bring to life the ideas and wildest imaginations of himself and others. Assignments could wait, for science never recharged.
Stepping ped into the lab, he froze.
Why were the lights on.
Scanning the room, he didn't see anybot. Coming fully inside, the doors swished shut behind him. It was quiet, too. No bubbling, no steam rising, no unpleasant fumes tainting the air. Perhaps someone left the light on?
Uncertainty lingering as he picked his favorite station by the window to unpack his materials. That was when he heard a transformation sound. Helm jerking up, he spotted, somehow overlooked, the giant red microscope sitting on the station next to him. As he watched, the scope lifted, the microscope unfolded and transformed, until a mech stood next to the counter-like table. To his shock, he was uncomfortably familiar.
Red white plating, blue accents, black helm. Picking the monocle from his right optic, the mech pulled a cloth from his subspace to clean it. "This is a most unexpected meeting." Deeming the little glass smudgefree, he slotted it back into place, giving Brainstorm his full attention. "Judging by your entry and various datapads, I assume that you are a student as well?"
"Uhm. Yes." Brainstorm got out, still too surprised for his processor to function properly.
Nodding, the mech continued, "Let me introduce myself then. My designation is Perceptor. Senior student, majoring in Science." He was looking at Brainstorm expectantly then.
Senior student.. The same vorn as him. Which meant that they would be potentially seeing each other way more often. It was as if Primus took pity and gave him a second chance.